The Devil Came Calling
by Steph-Schell
Summary: It's been ten years to the day since Trenton. Bass can't run anymore.


_The Devil went down to Georgia_

_He was looking for a soul to steal_

_He was in a bind _

_Cause he was way behind_

_He was willing to make a deal_

Bass held his breath as the heard the tent flap move. The song continued as footsteps approached him.

_He came across a young man_

_Sawin' on a fiddle an' playin' it hot_

_The Devil jumped up_

_On a hickory stump_

_An' said_

"Boy, let me tell you what."

Bass didn't want to raise his head to look in the pitch black eyes but the demon was in his space, leaning against the arm rests of the chair he was tied to, so he couldn't really look away. "Please, Miles," he whispered.

The demon in his best friend's skin laughed. "It's been ten years, Bass. You know what that means."

"Can't be," Bass argued. But he knew there was no point in protesting. These creatures were more anal than Neville. If he said ten years, it was ten years.

"OH but it is," the demon drawled, straightening. "Ten years to the day since Trenton. Hard to believe, isn't it?" The demon smiled widely. "I really should be thanking you. Since you signed that deal, we've been collecting souls left and right." Bass watched as he idly moved through the tent. "The boss has been very pleased. He wants me to pass along his gratitude. Between you and that lot that turned off the powers we've had a population explosion."

"Look…you can't take me, not yet."

"Actually I can. And I will. You made a deal, remember? A country of your own where the rest of the Mathesons would feel safe." The demon spread his arms wide. "And here it all is. I even threw in your resurrected best friend as a bonus." He cocked his head in a way that was so Miles it made Bass' heart hurt. "Of course now I have to take him back. He won't really be useful to you in hell."

"But…but it's all crumbling. It's been breaking down for years."

The demon shrugged. "Not my problem. My job was to give you a country. Your job was to maintain it."

"Please, I have a son. I want to find him."

"Nothing I can do. Your time is up."

"I'll make another deal."

The demon laughed. "What would you trade? I already own your soul. Your country is in shambles. There's no one left willing to take your place." He shook his head. "Sorry, Bass. This is the end of the road."

"I will give you anything," Bass pleaded.

The demon blinked and suddenly it was Miles staring back at him, brown eyes brimming with sympathy. "Look, Bass…you got nothing, man. Not anymore. And the fight…" He ran a hand through his hair. "All that must be so exhausting. Just let it happen. It'll be easier."

Bass slumped in his chair. "You're not Miles," he accused.

"Of course I am."

"Miles is a fighter. First, last and always."

Another blink and the demon was back. "Well, I tried to make the end easy for you."

"Isn't there anything I can do?" Bass insisted.

The demon considered him for a long moment. "Tell you what," he finally said. "The hounds could use some real exercise. I'll let you free from your bonds and you start escaping. If you can outrun my hounds, you can have your soul back." He leaned in close. "How does that sound?"

It sounded like a suckers deal. But Bass needed time. He had a son out there and he needed to find the boy. "I'll do it," he agreed softly.

The demon grinned as he cut through Bass' bonds. "Run, Bass," he ordered. Then he turned to the tent flap. "Monroe's escaping!"

"What the hell?" Bass demanded.

The demon glanced over his shoulder. "I said, run."

Bass darted from the tent as fast as his legs could carry him. He could hear his former soldiers yelling and trying to find him. But what was louder, to his ears, were the howls. The hounds had been released and they were trying to find him. He put on speed and tried not to look back.

For all his faults, Bass was not a stupid man. He knew when his time was over. He knew the hounds were going to find him. But even as he fell to his knees in the field, he wished it could be different. Bass looked at the lightening as the howls became overwhelming. His last though was of how peaceful Miles had looked when that bullet wound had finished him off in Trenton. Bass knew his own end would be far less pleasant as the first set of claws ripped into him.

The demon in Miles Matheson's skin whistled as he walked away from the camp. The power being back on didn't bother him any. Especially with missiles killing so many souls. There were so many more deals to be made in the coming days. But first he had to take care of the soul he just collected.

_Please allow me to introduce myself_

_I'm a man of wealth and taste_

_I've been around a long, long year_

_Stole many a man's soul and faith_

The demon chuckled. "One of my favorites," he praised.

His protégé grinned. "The classics are always the best. How are they in there?" He jerked his head toward the camp the Mathesons and the few survivors of the tower had made.

"All broken up and waiting for someone to offer them a magical solution."

The demons both laughed. "Love it when they're already warmed up for me. If you'll excuse me, I have job to do."

"I'll see you downstairs."

Charlie looked up at the sound of footsteps. "MIles?" she called.

"Not quite."

Her jaw dropped at the figure that appeared before her. "Danny?"

"Sort of. Not really. But I can give him back to you Charlotte. I can give them all back to you. And it won't cost you a thing for ten whole years."


End file.
